


Five Times Dick Grayson Read about Jason Todd in the Newspaper

by Engineerd



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Dick's angsty college years, Fights, Gen, Jason Todd is Robin, Pre-New 52
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 02:46:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10178969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Engineerd/pseuds/Engineerd
Summary: If Dick hadn’t been special ordering the Gotham City Gazette, he wouldn’t have found out for - well. Years, at this rate.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [snakes and snails and puppy dog tails](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1033821) by [irnan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/irnan/pseuds/irnan). 



 

One

* * *

 

Dick knew he and Bruce had been fighting. He knew they hadn’t been as close as they had been when they were younger. But honestly, this was going a little too far. If Dick hadn’t been special ordering the Gazette here in New York City, he wouldn’t have found out for - well. Years, at this rate.

 _Bruce Wayne Adopts Gotham Street Orphan,_ read the top article in the society section of the  Gotham City Gazette.

Gotham was about a two hour train ride from New York, and Dick (who usually tried to avoid using Bruce Wayne’s money as much as he could) felt no remorse at charging the last-minute ticket and then the taxi ride to the Manor to the credit card Bruce had given him last year. He let himself right in the front door.

“Hello?” he called out, his voice echoing in all the empty space. “Anybody home?”

Alfred padded out rather quickly. “Master Dick!” he said happily, holding his arms open.

Dick gratefully accepted the hug. “Hey, Alfred,” he replied, squeezing the old man briefly. “Long time, no see. Happy Columbus Day!” 

“It’s good to have you home, young master,” Alfred said. “You have the day off from classes?”

“Sure do,” Dick said, sticking his hands in the back pockets of his jeans.

He saw Alfred give his hoodie and stained jeans a once over. “Did you bring any laundry with you?”

“They have washing machines at college, Alf,” Dick said, amused.

“So I’ve heard,” Alfred said, still eyeing Dick’s pants with disdain. “At least you’ve arrived in time for lunch.”

“I don’t need-”

“I insist,” Alfred interrupted. “You can join Master Jason and I.”

“Well, if it's not any trouble,” Dick agreed, letting Alfred lead the way towards the kitchen. “Jason Todd, right?”

“Indeed. I’m glad Master Bruce has been keeping you apprised,” Alfred said. 

“Oh no,” Dick said, voice dangerously pleasant, “I just read about him today in the paper.”

Alfred froze, but Dick just brushed past him into the kitchen. “Hey, kiddo!” Dick announced loudly to the room, walking over to there was a boy eating at the kitchen table.

The boy looked up. He was older than Dick had been when he’d first come to the manor - 13 years old, according to the paper. Everything about him was sharp: his cheekbones, his jaw, his elbows, his gaze. His mousy-brown hair was sticking up in a shock above his head.

“You must be Jason,” Dick said, sticking out his hand. “Nice to meet you. Dick Grayson.”

Jason returned his handshake firmly. “Hi,” he said cautiously.

“What’re we having for lunch today? Is that chili?” Dick asked, pulling out the chair opposite. “Oh, that smells amazing. I miss Alfred’s chili. Alfred’s the best chef on the entire east coast, I’m telling you. Certainly better than anyone in New York.”

“I doubt a college freshman’s meal plan is a valuable point of reference for the whole city of New York,” Alfred said, entering the kitchen at last.

“I have faith in you,” Dick said, watching as Alfred spooned him a bowl. “Do you need any help with that? I’m sorry I just sat down, I didn’t think.”

“It’s quite alright,” Alfred answered, setting the meal down in front of him.

“Thank you, Alfred,” Dick said.

No one else said anything while Dick sipped his first spoonful, so he was forced to continue. “Yup, delicious as always,” Dick said, putting the spoon down. “So, Jason. What’s it like living in the manor? I remember when I just moved in - wait, did you just move in?” Dick calculated in his mind just how long Bruce could have had a kid hiding in here. He’d been unofficially living in Titan’s tower for the last year, and then this fall he moved into the dorms at Hudson University. If Bruce had wanted to hide him, he would have gotten away with it for an embarrassingly long time, really.   

“About 6 weeks,” Jason answered. He still looked like he was sizing Dick up.

“6 weeks, wow,” Dick said, doing his best to keep any negativity out of his voice. From the pinched look on Alfred’s face, he wasn’t sure how well he was succeeding. “That’s just about when I started my fall semester. I just started college, I go to Hudson University.”

“I know,” Jason said.

Dick raised his eyebrows. “You know?”

“Yeah,” Jason said. “People mention it all the time, how you’re in New York now.”

Dick plastered a smile on his face. “Neat,” he said. “So, um, you have the day off school too, right? Where’s Bruce sending you, Gotham Heights?”

“I’m homeschooled for now,” Jason answered.

“Oh,” Dick said. “Wow, that’s different. You miss regular classes?”

“I’m mostly homeschooled so I can get caught up, seeing as I haven’t been to school the last couple years,” Jason said, squaring his shoulders. “Living on the streets, and all.” He said it like a challenge.

Dick forced himself not to look at Alfred for help. “Cool, cool, cool,” he said, nodding, stirring his chili with the spoon. “Education, I mean. Never hurts.”

Jason narrowed his eyes. “Right.”

“Hey, where’s Ace?” Dick asked, looking around, hoping the dog would get them out of this awkward rut they had somehow found themselves in. “Is he outside? I miss that old guy.”

Jason’s face froze in an awkward wincing expression. Alfred cleared his throat.

“What?” Dick asked, stomach sinking.

“Ace was put down last week, Master Richard,” Alfred told him solemnly.

Dick could tell he’d used his full formal name sign of respect for the occasion, or for mourning, or something. “What?” Dick repeated, tilting his head. “Last week?”

“He had a tumorous growths on both his hind legs,” Alfred said gently. “It was his time.”

“Yeah, he was eight, I suppose,” Dick forced out. “That’s old for such a big dog. It was - it’s - Bruce didn’t tell me?”

“I’m sorry, Master Richard. You were away with your school friends at the time, I believe.”

And yeah, Dick had been on a mission with the Titans last week, but, “My dog died and Bruce couldn’t bother to drop me an email?” Dick said, feeling slightly hysterical.

“I should have-”

“It’s not your fault, Alfred,” Dick said, standing up. “You’re not - no offense, I love you, but you’ve already gone way above and beyond your job description, you don’t have to try to force Bruce to communicate like a normal human. I’m sorry, I think - I have to go talk to him, I’m going to go meet him at Wayne Enterprises. Can you call ahead and make sure they let me up?”

“They’ll always let you up, Master Dick,” Alfred said, voice still gentle.

Dick scoffed. “I don’t know, Alfred, I’m eighteen now. I don’t have a claim to anything Wayne-related now that I’m aged out.”

“That’s not true,” Jason said suddenly, piping up. “Once you’re adopted, your name goes on all the family documents. The Wayne family’s allowed basically anywhere in corporate.”

“That’s great for you, kid,” Dick said, pausing in the doorway. “But for the record, I was never adopted. I was just a ward. Sorry to run out like this, I hope your school stuff works out.”

 

* * *

Two

* * *

 

Dick hadn’t spoken to Bruce (or Jason, for that matter) in the months since the big Columbus Day you-killed-my-dog fiasco.

It was the Gazette again, this time the bottom of the front page: _Robin Back in Gotham!_

Dick actually dismissed it as a hoax the first time in the paper. Batman was considered to be an urban legend by the general public for a lot of Dick’s career, and it wasn’t until the Justice League, really, that people started really to believe he existed. So all superheroes, but Batman and Robin, especially, have been shrouded in mystery. Dick’s even been keeping a low profile as Nightwing; people don’t really know who he is, and the Titans officially have Robin still listed as a member.

It wasn’t until Wally told him, actually, that Dick believed him.

“Is it bad I like the Teen Titans a lot better than the Justice League?” Wally asked him. They were in New York, eating pizza(s).

“Of course not,” Dick answered him. “The Titans are ours. You never forget your roots.”

“We might have to change the team name,” Wally mused. “We’re barely teenagers anymore. And we’re not Kid Flash and Robin.”

Dick, of course, was Nightwing, and ever since Barry had died, Wally was the Flash. “Oh my god, we’re old,” Dick grumbled. “You’re a legacy.”

“You started a legacy,” Wally added.

“Hm?” Dick said, cocking his head to fit a bigger bite of pizza into his mouth.

“You passed Robin on,” Wally continued. “Man, if I hadn’t seen it myself, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

Dick chewed mechanically. “Robin was with the League?” he asked, using the mouthful of food to muffle his voice.

“He came to pick up some equipment Batman left at HQ,” Wally said. “Ballsy kid. He told Diana he had better legs.”

“I gotta go back to Gotham,” Dick said suddenly, standing up. He pulled out his wallet and dropped a twenty on the table.

Wally stood too. “Everything alright?”

“No,” Dick said mildly. “I - do I need the Nightwing suit to yell at Bruce?”

“It’s only seven, he’s probably not out and about yet,” Wally answered. “Want a ride?”

“Sure,” Dick answered, bracing himself -

-and that’s how he ended up in the Batcave, doubled over from dizziness with the Flash patting his back (and Dick was not an easy man to make dizzy). It only took a few more seconds for the metahuman alarm in the cave to kick in.

“That’s my cue,” Wally said. “I better go. You ok, man?”

“Yeah,” Dick gasped, pulling himself upright. It was easier to breath air regular speeds. “Yeah, I’m good, thanks.”

“Call me later,” Wally said, and then he disappeared again.

Bruce appeared only seconds later, with Jason right behind him. They were both in training gear, and Jason’s hair was black now, which only confirmed Dick’s worst suspicions.

“Who was that?” Jason asked, staring off in the direction Wally had left, where the dust was still settling.

“Flash dropped me off,” Dick said evenly, crossing the ground in long strides. “Bruce, I need to talk to you.”

Bruce was already tense; he didn’t outwardly acknowledge Dick’s words. “Jason, wait for me in the gym,” he ordered.

“Why?” Jason demanded.

“This is between me and him, kid, scram,” Dick snarled. His fingers twitched at his sides in his effort not to ball them into fists.

Jason’s expression quickly flickered between surprise to disdain. “You’re not the boss of-”

 _“Go to the gym,”_ Bruce growled, not taking his gaze off of Dick’s face, and Dick knew he was being sized up like they were going to physically fight, which at the moment was sounding _fine by him._

Jason scowled. “Fine,” he said, and stomped away.

He was barely out of earshot when Dick hissed, “What the hell, Bruce.”

“You know metahumans aren’t allowed to drop by unannounced,” Bruce told him.

“Let me revise my statement to _what the everloving fuck,_ Bruce,” Dick spat. _“Robin?”_

“You’re not using it anymore,” Bruce said.

“I didn’t say a single thing about adopting the kid,” Dick said. “You want to run a little orphanage, fine. Whatever. You’ve got the money for it. But that _kid_ is not Robin.” 

“What’s it matter to you, Dick?” Bruce asked lowly, without inflection. “You’re certainly not Robin anymore. You’ve made that abundantly clear.”

“Robin is mine,” Dick snarled. “It’s not yours to give away! And while I’m at it, what the fuck are you thinking, putting a random kid off the streets in my suit? If you’re so lonely on patrol, give Alfred a walkie-talkie!” 

“You don’t know the first thing about Jason,” Bruce said, anger starting to color his voice. Good.

“Actually, I think I do,” Dick snapped, taking a step forward. “The first thing is you dyed his hair black because you’re trying to force-recreate a goddamn replacement of me. I’d almost be flattered if you weren’t such a _hypocrite._ What happened to the it’s too dangerous line, when you tried to fire me?”

“You’re way out of line, Dick.”

“Oh, what a surprise!” Dick shouted. “Abstract rules and double standards!”

“As I recall, I was doing my best to protect you when that happened, and you just ran straight to the Titans where you operated with no supervision whatsoever,” Bruce retorted. “I’m trying to learn from my mistakes.”

“Oh, so I’m a _mistake,_ now?” Dick asked.

“That’s not what I said.”

“Yeah, what you said was that it was _Batman and Robin_ and since I was not longer allowed to be a part of anything ‘Batman and’ I had to get lost.” 

“Don’t pretend to be upset about that, you couldn’t wait to leave,” Bruce said, hands curling into fists.

“Fine, so I left,” Dick said. “Whatever, that’s not why I’m here. Jason can’t be Robin.”

“Jason already is Robin,” Bruce snarled. “You don’t have any authority here, and I will not have you taking your issues out on that boy!”

“You’re the one putting him on the front lines of a war, and I’m the one taking my issues out on him,” Dick said sarcastically. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

 _“Get out!”_ Bruce shouted.

Dick involuntarily took a step backwards, and then steeled himself. “Yeah, that sounds about right too,” he sneered, and started walking by foot out of the Batcave.

 

*****

 

Dick only had enough change for about one phone call at the nearest payphone, and as he didn’t really feel like explaining the whole situation to Wally (he loved the guy, but biggest gossip on the Titans, honestly) he crossed his fingers and hoped his other partner in Gotham hadn’t changed her number in the last couple years.

“Hello?”

“Babs?” Dick said, relieved. “Oh, thank god. I’m sorry to impose on you like this, but do you think you could come pick me up? I’m kind of stranded in Gotham.”

“Dick?” she questioned. “Is this you?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry." He changed his voice to a higher-pitched, teasing tone. "Hi Ms. Gordon, it’s me, Dickie Grayson. I’m sort of near the manor, and I need a ride back into the city. Do you think a nice lady like you could help me out?”

Barbara laughed. “I didn’t give you rides that often when we were kids, and that’s not what you sounded like.”

“I was 100% a charming little brat when I was fourteen,” Dick said. “I’m very sure that’s how I conned you into driving me home from school.”

“You were embarrassed because Bruce would swing by in the limo,” she said. “What a poor little rich boy.”

“So what do you say, Babs?” Dick asked. “One more ride, for old times sake?”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” she promised.  

It was slightly cold out, so Dick walked around a little and was only mildly shivering when she finally pulled up. “Hey, beautiful,” Dick said out of reflex, climbing into the passenger’s seat of Babs’ now fairly-old car.

She rolled her eyes. “Dick Grayson,” she stated. “Long time, no see.”

“It’s nice to see you too,” he agreed, smiling ruefully. “How’s school going for you? I’ve heard you’re managing to squeeze a Bachelor's and a Master’s into four years.”

“It’s Library Science,” Barbara said offhand.

“Still impressive.”

“I’ve sort of slowed down on the BG stuff,” she admitted.

“Well, hey, it’s your senior year,” he said. “You’ve got things going on. Thesis and stuff?”

“I read a lot.”

“You should have been named Alexandria.”

“And I’m minoring in computer science.”

“I could literally not be more impressed,” Dick said. “Stop it, I’ll have to start asking for your autograph.” 

“That one was weak,” Barbara deadpanned.

“No it wasn’t,” Dick argued. “It’s ‘cause you’re a genius, Babs. You’ve always been impressive.”

“Enough with the sweet talking, Robin, and cut to the chase,” she said. “Tell me if I’m assuming too much here, but did I really just have to come get you because Bruce threw you out of the manor?”

The smile fell from Dick’s face. He turned his gaze towards the passenger window. “Throw might be a strong word,” he said. “We didn’t physically fight. Forcibly ordered out, maybe.”

“I’m sorry,” Barbara said. “For what it’s worth, I think he really misses you.”

Dick snorted. “Yeah, hence Robin 2.0, new and - hey, have you worked with him out in the field?”

“Not directly,” Barbara said. “Occasionally we fight henchmen in the same area. He’s...I mean, I didn’t start training so hard until I was older too, so I really can’t judge, but he’s no you.”

“I can’t believe he just gave away _Robin,_ ” Dick said to the window, his breath fogging up the glass. “I - we were supposed to be partners.”

Babs hummed noncommittally.

“Yeah, I know,” Dick said, and closed his eyes. “I know how it sounds. I’m sorry for whining. Thank you for coming to bail me out.”

“Anytime, Boy Wonder,” she said. “For the record, I don’t think it’s anyone’s fault you grew up.”  

The words made a funny feeling settle in the pit of Dick’s stomach. _Grew up._ When Dick was a little kid, he never doubted that he would be Robin forever. And now - Robin was never Batman’s partner, just a sidekick. He would never be _Batman and Robin_ again.

He’d probably never work in Gotham again. He’d never thought about it, had always assumed one day he and Bruce would get over themselves and everything would settle, but.

“You’ve done most of college, Babs,” Dick said. “Do you think I’m done growing?”

She shot him a quick glance out the side of eye. “I’m not sure,” she said. “But you’ve done the moving out. That was the hardest part for me.”

Dick swallowed. “Yeah. It’s probably all uphill from here, right?”

 

* * *

Three

* * *

 

 _Wayne Enterprises and Lexcorp Spend More Trying to Outdo Each Other’s Charity Fundraisers than on Actual Charity,_ read the top article in the editorial section of the Gotham City Gazette, which he still special-ordered even now in Bludhaven. It was subtitled _They’re Just Going to End up Being Attacked by a Super Villain Anyway._

Dick snorted into his cereal, and decided to show up at the Wayne Charity Ball that night.

 

*****

 

His old suit was a little too short and a lot tighter than it used to be, as it had been a looong time since he’d last been to one of these. He snuck in an hour after the thing officially started, when things had settled a little and he was less likely to be noticed.

It was around nine o’clock at night and Bruce was nowhere to be found. Dick isn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed, but either way it was kind of shitty to be left alone at one of these things, even if this was a somewhat transparent trap for one of Gotham’s most wanted (Dick would know). So he went to track down Jason, who should have been holding down the fort as Wayne Enterprise’s society representative, if Bruce was playing the same old plots with him as he used to play with Dick.

Jason was not flitting around playing Bruce Wayne, Jr. Jason was hiding in a corner, sitting on the floor with a book in his lap.

Dick sighed and unbuttoned his jacket so he could join him on the floor.

Jason marked his page and looked over at him in something like exasperation. He was only 14, but Dick always had a hard time reading his facial expressions. From the way everyone described him, Jason wasn’t really someone who guarded his feelings, but that was exactly how he always seemed to Dick.

“Hey,” Dick greeted. “Little wing.”

“Hey, Dickwing” Jason responded evenly. His voice was definitely deeper now than it had been the last time Dick had seen him. “I didn’t know you were supposed to be here.”

“I kind of decided last minute,” Dick said next to him. “You know, these things haven't changed a bit.”

“I dunno,” Jason replied. “They’ve never tried to grope me. Apparently you were easy that way.”

“Ha ha,” Dick said.

“Why are you here?” Jason asked. His voice still sounded flat.

“I read about it in the paper,” Dick answered. “Piqued my interest. Who you guys after, Penguin?”

“Hole in one,” Jason affirmed. “All the diamonds give it away, right?”

“I’ve been around a while,” Dick commented dryly. “I guess I’m also kind of here to see you?”

Jason’s eyes snapped from the crowd sharply to Dick. “Me?” Jason asked. “Why are you here to see me?”

“People were asking about you,” Dick said. “The Titans liked you.” Actually, they’d all thought Jason was pretty adorable, but he knew saying that wouldn’t go over well.

Jason snorted. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be heading back for a little while. Bruce was pissed I snuck out.”

“When I was your age, I was going out with Wally and Donna and Garth all the time,” Dick said. “You’re allowed.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Ok.”

“I can’t beleive no one’s come over to yell at us yet,” Dick remarked. “The wait staff, at least. They were always on my case.”

“We have an understanding,” Jason said dryly, and then changed the subject before Dick could question it. “How’s Bludhaven?”

“Eugh,” Dick answered. “Awful, honestly. I’d say it’s been a light week workwise, but that’s only because the weather’s been so crappy that no one goes outside. If there’s crime going on, it’s inside where no one can see or hear it.”

“You’re slacking off enough to let crime happen indoors?” Jason mocked. “What would B say?”

“Trust me,” Dick said. “I know that B thinks I’ve bitten off more than I can chew, an entire city by myself.”

“Are you kidding me?” Jason asked. “He thinks you can do anything. It’s always ‘Dick can handle a whole city by himself, you can’t follow direct orders for five minutes’ around here.”

Dick laughed. “He must have selective memory, then,” he said.

“Hey,” Jason said suddenly, “Sorry we missed your police academy graduation.”

Dick waved his hand. “Eh, it wasn’t a big deal. The Joker attacked the city, what were you supposed to do? I had some friends there. I’ve been trying to keep my distance from Bruce Wayne, anyways. Civilian wise.”

“Still,” Jason said. “That’s the last graduation you might ever have, since you failed out of business school.”

Dick made a face. “I did not _fail_ out of business school, I merely had different interests-”

“You one hundred percent failed out of business school,” Jason interrupted. He had a teasing grin on his face, and Dick was glad to see it there. “If skipping class to be Nightwing made you fail, you still failed.”

“Classes were slow and boring,” Dick complained.

“Bruce said he had time to go to Princeton,” Jason retorted. “And he was doing Batman training at the same time.”

“Bruce’s degree is a cover,” Dick said, rolling his eyes. “It took him ten years to finish, and he started when he was 16. I was there when he ‘graduated’ so don’t let him feed you any lines about the importance of Ivy League education.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason said, waving him away. “I know not to take him too seriously, don’t worry.”

“That’s a good Robin,” Dick said.

Jason made a face.

Dick laughed.

 

* * *

Four

* * *

 

Dick and the rest of the Titans had been off planet for a month. It wasn’t Dick’s first time off planet (after all, he had dated Kory for a large chunk of his teenage years) but it was definitely the longest by far.

But the Lantern Corps was happy with their work and Earth was doing pretty well in the whole intergalactic-politics thing Dick didn’t really understand and didn’t try too, so Dick wasn’t feeling too bad about it when he got back to Bludhaven. He was tired enough that he swore he would nap for twelve hours right after he called work.

“Hey, Captain,” he said. “It’s Dick Grayson. I’m sorry about taking that unexpected leave of absence, but I should be able to come back to work tomorrow, I think.”

“Grayson,” his captain greeted. He sounded...awkward, which was a little strange, but then again maybe it was just the phone connection. “You know, I never connected you to Bruce Wayne, and you certainly never act like someone with that kind of money usually does. Pretty shoddy detective work for a police captain, I guess.”

Dick frowned. That was out of the blue. “I moved out a long time ago, cap.”

“I’m sorry about your brother,” his captain said. “I’m sorry about being less than understanding about your sudden departure, but then your partner pointed it out to me, and well. Take all the time you need, son.”

Dick didn’t have any brothers. “Thanks, Captain,” he said, feeling a frown settle over his features. “I’ll keep you posted.”

There was a lot a mail piled up in his box, but Dick only had to glance at the first one before he was calling for an emergency lift to Gotham.  

 _Is Robin Really Dead?,_ read the front page of the Gotham City Gazette.

 

*****

 

Dick burst into the front door of the Manor. “BRUCE?” he shouted from top of his lungs, barrelling through the house. “AL - Alfred!”

Alfred, at least, looked the same. “Master Dick,” he said gently, and his tone smashed something inside Dick that he hadn’t really been aware he was holding onto.

“Is it true?” Dick demanded, skidding to a halt in front of the Butler. “I just got back a few hours ago. Is it true? Is Jason really dead?”

“I’m afraid so, young master,” Alfred said. “It was only a few days after you left.”

Dick bit his lip. “The Joker killed him,” he said, it coming out more like a statement than a question.

“Yes,” Alfred said softly.

Dick took another breath, and then another. It wasn’t working, it wasn’t calming him down, he wasn’t breathing deep enough. He was just on his way to hyperventilating. “Where’s he buried?” Dick asked. “And where’s Bruce? He wasn’t answering any of my comms.”

“With the rest of the family,” Alfred said, and it took Dick’s mind a second to realize that Alfred meant the Wayne family plot on one corner of the manor grounds, not anywhere public, like his own parent’s graves. “As for Master Bruce, he’s been the cave for quite some time.”

Something flared inside Dick’s chest. He snarled, “where the hell does he get off, ignoring me like-” he took a step towards the cave, and then cut himself off brutally. Two more breaths. “God. Sorry, Alf. I think I need to - can you show me? I’ve never really been to the family graves without Bruce. I’m sorry, I just - I need to calm down, I...”

“I can show you,” Alfred said, voice still gentle. Dick had never known Alfred’s mourning voice before. He didn’t like it. “Let me go grab my coat.”

 

*****

 

Dick had never really trained with Jason.

He’d never even thought about it, really. Dick hadn’t been particularly pleased when Jason had shown up, both as Bruce Wayne’s adopted son and as Robin, and even though he hadn’t said anything he was positive Jason had picked up on it. Despite that, Dick had trained some of the other members of the Titans. He should have at least found time to work with his own successor.

Well. Not that Jason was the type of kid that readily accepted help, anyways.

Maybe Dick should have pushed harder. Maybe if he’d shouted some more he could have kept the kid out of the Robin costume.

Maybe he should have visited more.

“Bruce?” Dick called out, thudding down the stairs to the Batcave. “Bruce, it’s me! I’m home, I’m... _oh my god.”_ Jason’s Robin costume was hung in a display near the entrance of the cave from the manor. Bruce would have to see it every time he came down here.

Well. It’s not what Dick would have done, but then again. He hadn’t been Jason’s partner.

“Bruce?” he called again, tearing his eyes away from the memorial and heading further into the cave.

Bruce was wearing the Batsuit, standing rigidly in front of the computer. “Nightwing,” he growled, and the way he was refusing to use or answer to civilian names was not a good sign. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”

“I heard about Jason,” Dick said.

Bruce visibly tensed and moved to face away from Dick. Also not a good sign. “You missed the funeral.”

“I’m here now,” Dick said. “Come on, don’t turn your back on me.”

Bruce pulled the cowl down sharply. “You were lucky,” he snapped. “When you didn’t listen to me, your injuries weren’t fatal. Of course, by the time I _properly_ trained you, you ran off-”

“Lay off, pal, I’m not here to fight,” Dick interrupted sharply.

“Then don’t!” Bruce shouted. “You never listened, and look what your example-”

“Are you kidding?” Dick asked incredulously. “Are you seriously trying to _blame me?”_

“You weren’t here!”

“I left, Jason replaced me, so it’s my fault he died? Newsflash, I was a trained acrobat before I caped up! I could think quickly in dangerous situations! Jason wasn’t me! _You’re_ the one who put him out there before he was-”

Dick went sprawling to the ground as Bruce punched him in the jaw. _“DON’T YOU DARE BLAME ME FOR JASON’S DEATH!”_ he registered Bruce screaming in the background. “Why did I think I needed a partner? They only slow you down and make you worry about them rather than doing your job! He wouldn’t listen, he wanted to do everything his way, he was _just like you._ In a few years I would have had to fire him too!”  _  
_

Dick glared up at Bruce from the floor, raising a hand to examine the damage to his face. He wasn’t bleeding, but it was definitely going to bruise over like hell.

Bruce glared back at him. “Why are you pretending to be concerned about Jason?” he snapped. “You never liked him. You once told me you resented the fact that I adopted him and not you!”

“I didn’t resent him,” Dick replied tersely, nursing his face. “I only asked asked why.”

“We’ve gone over this before, Dick! I am not continuing this conversation! I suggest you leave, and give your key to Alfred on the way out!”

For the whole time the first conversation, Dick flinched.

“I don’t need a partner,” Bruce growled, storming away. “I never should have had one, and I never will again.”

Dick watched him leave, the shadows of the cave quickly swallowing up the cape and cowl. Then he closed his eyes, brought his knees up to his face and wrapped his arms around his legs.

Maybe he should have visited more.

 

* * *

Five

* * *

 

Dick was getting really good at making the drive from Bludhaven to Gotham in record time. He wasn’t quite sure why Timmy had taken to hanging around the manor on weekends, given that the Drakes were still alive and well and had their own overly large house, but he wasn’t really going to question it. He was glad to have the opportunity hang out with Tim whenever circumstances allowed.

It was helpful that Tim opened up with relatively little prodding.

“Well, I’m usually out with Superboy and Impulse on Saturdays,” Tim said as he proceeded to kick Dick’s ass in Super Smash. “But Bruce said I shouldn’t today, cuz, you know,” he wiggled his left ankle, which was taped up after a bad twist a few days ago. “And my parents think it’s nice that I always go out with my friends, so I wanted to go somewhere.”

“Well, I’ll always be down for video games,” Dick said. “One day I’ll beat you. But if you really wanted to go out, I can take you into town for the day.”

“Nah, that’s okay,” Tim replied. “I like that manor.”

“That’s easy for you to say, you’ve never lived here,” Dick said. “Alfred gave me a tour the other day of the essential systems: heating, water, electricity and stuff. We must be breaking so many tax laws, and I have no idea how Bruce explains away the bill to the power company.”

“Hey, well it’ll be your house one day,” Tim said. “Did you get the whole Lion King speech? Everything the light touches will be yours?”

Dick shuddered and made gagging noises. “I grew up in a traveling circus, Timmy. This house is basically the opposite.”

“Eh, well, Bruce did adopt you,” Tim said, and then paused the game suddenly. “Hey, that reminds me. There was an article in the paper he wants you to read.”

“Who, Bruce?” Dick sighed, watching as Tim scurried away to fetch something from the study.

“Yeah!” Tim said. “You know how he is about public persona awareness.”

Dick did, actually, know how he was about their civilian personas. Between Jason Todd dying at almost exactly the same time as the Joker announcing he’d killed Robin, and the then twelve-year-old Tim stepping forward to announce he’d been aware of their identities for years, Bruce had gone sort of overboard lately. Dick, who had made himself a rather average and unnotable cop in Bludhaven, had been dragged back into the billionaire's circle kicking and screaming.

Tim came back into the room, holding the society section of the goddamn Gotham Gazette again. Dick snatched the paper away from him, scanning the pages quickly until he found the medium-sized story on the third page. _Billionaire Bruce Wayne Adopts Former Ward as Legal Heir._

“This is garbage,” Dick said, scanning through the columns. “They’re just talking about how this solidifies me as inheritor for the company.”

“Were you before?”

“I don’t know,” Dick said. “I never really wanted it.” He paused as his eyes alighted on one sentence: _After the untimely death of his second child, Jason Todd, Wayne undoubtedly -_

“Are you going to change your last name?” Tim asked. “The article mentions that too.”

“Nah,” Dick said. "I like Grayson. Hey Tim, did I ever tell you I failed business school?"

"Really?" Tim asked.

"Yeah, it was slow and painful and drawn-out and everything. Bruce was mad, too. Said I should stop skipping class so much to be Nightwing."

"Oh," Tim said. "That's not really failing, then."

"That's what I thought at the time too," Dick said quietly, and put the paper down.


End file.
